


wind of change (the leaves are singing for you)

by amako



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Angst, F/M, I like this AU ok, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Memory Alteration, Nymphs & Dryads, Spells & Enchantments, because this is me we're talking about, it's fun, oh and, ok bear with me on this one, so like the Nara are dryads, the Hatake and Inuzuka are the Blood Packs, the Noble Clans of Konoha are Spirits, the Senju were slaughtered
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 20:32:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14480655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amako/pseuds/amako
Summary: "A year ago, you came to me for a deal. If you bring me the flowers, I will give you back all the memories I took from you and I'll answer all the questions they will bring."orShikamaru's son doesn't have a mother and no one questions where he comes from





	wind of change (the leaves are singing for you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raendown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/gifts).



> This is for Rae, whom I talked about this so much her ear fell off.
> 
> The Witch and the Crow King are inspired by a single character from The Bone Collector series by dreabean. Corvo Attano is a witch, who everyone calls the Crow King. Please give it a read, because it's one of the best series in the fandom.
> 
> The Blood Packs are named after the street gang from the Mass Effect trilogy.
> 
> Majo means 'witch' and Karasu-ō-sama means 'crow king', because I'm original like that.
> 
> Shikaku comes with the prefix shika- (deer) and the full word can mean 'assassin'
> 
> Rurikarakusa is the Japanese name of the nemophila flower. Nemophila comes from nemus- woods and phile- to love, so literally the flower that loves the woods.

For as long as they can remember, the Nara have always inhabited the Konoha forest. They arrived such a long time ago that no one can tell where they originally came from. They've merged with the tall trees of the forest, painted their skin the colour of autumn leaves, brushed their hair back like the pines in winter. The Nara are the forest, as true as the sky is blue and the Naka river is pure.

Being the only dryad clan in the area has its perks, because no one knows the woods like they do and they're the only ones who can navigate them precisely enough to find the Spirits. That makes the Nara the inevitable bridge between the outer clans and the three noble spirit families, which grants them many bargaining privileges and a reputation for being level-headed and trustworthy.

Their association with the Spirits added, over the years, another layer to their reputation. You do not want to make a Nara angry. Their revenge will be slow but devastating, like ashes left alone next to a pile of wet moss. It will burn gently, relentlessly, until the fire has dried the moss and the whole forest is burning to the ground. The Senju Clan's absence is there to remind everyone what it costs to go against the Nara. They're now the only dryad clan and the Senju are but a legend told to the children alongside the story of Moon Kaguya.

Shikamaru knows that, he's been raised by the same principles that guided his father, and his father's mother before him. He's been groomed to take over the clan and he will do so as soon as his son is old enough to be watched over by someone else. For now, Shikaku has left him with the task of dealing with one of the three noble clans. The Hyūga are painfully evasive when it suits them, but the rest of the time they tend to come off as heartless pricks who could use some morality once in a while.

He likes Hinata well enough, but Hanabi is a pest and the recent awakening of her powers has given her just an edge of sheer assholery. Shikamaru isn't looking forward to the next meeting, but he'll take it if it means staying away from the recent migration of Uzumaki. He has absolutely no trust to waste on the foxes, and to be perfectly honest, he's a bit scared of Mito-sama. Since the Nara wiped out the Senju, there is a lot of bad blood between them and the Uzumaki.

It hasn't stopped him from making friends with Naruto, but as long as the man is the one to come to their land and not the opposite, he can defend himself if the matriarch decides to take offence. Otherwise, he's not placing the bets on himself. He's average when it comes to dryad abilities, his mnesic powers compensating for his lack of practice in the delicate art of caring for the forest. He's glad the deer like him, that's one less bother to care about. He has no idea how bad his life would be if his clan's totems didn't care for him.

As always when he travels to the Hyūga lands, Shikamaru lingers on Konoha's east side. The forest is gigantic, so titanic in size that not once in his life has he left the cover of its trees. But at the edge of the Nara lands, where no one dares to go anymore, Shikamaru knows he'll find the Witch and the Crow King.

He doesn't seek their company as much as he used to, because his duties and his son have taken over his schedule in an overwhelming way he didn't expect. But every time he steps foot on their territory, he can feel the deep peace caressing his bones, tainted with an ounce of eeriness, sharp enough to remind him of how dangerous they are.

Shikamaru doesn't know anyone who appreciates their company like he does, and he would actually bet that no one speaks to them. He knows the Spirits don't like them, he's heard the Uchiha and Hyūga curse their names enough times to understand that, and even the ever-imperturbable Aburame look concerned whenever crossing their lands is mentioned.

He doesn't really care. They've always been nice to him, complimenting the golden patterns on his skin and the grace of his antlers and enjoying his wits when even his clan could be unsettled by how fast his mind works. That's one of the reasons visiting the Hyūga while his son grows up isn't such a chore; he gets to spend time with the two creatures of the East.

As usual, they're waiting for him in front of their shack. The Crow King looks even more gloomy than normal, but the Witch's face is relaxed and he even smiles slightly when Shikamaru arrives.

 

"Majo-sama, Karasu-ō-sama! Good morning!"

"Good morning to you too, Shikamaru. How are you?"

"I have to go meet with the Hyūga again, how troublesome is that?"

Majo laughs. "It is indeed. I've never been fond of them myself."

"They're a bunch of pricks, that's what they are," the Crow King grumbles, flipping his long hair back.

"Now, now, don't judge them too hard. You have history, that's all."

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, they can go rot where the totems don't shine."

 

Majo shakes his head fondly, before going inside the shack to bring back the tea they always share.

 

"How's your son?" the Crow King asks, picking up a tiny pink flower from the parterre of shibazakura scattered on the ground.

"He's learning how to walk," Shikamaru says with a small smile. "He's not doing that great, honestly. I think he's too lazy to actually try."

Majo chuckles as he comes back. "It sounds to me like young Shikaoi shares one too many traits with his father."

Shikamaru shrugs. "I've done okay in my life so far, I think. He'll be fine too."

 

Something strange passes on the Crow King's face, who isn't as versed in hiding his emotions as the Witch is. Shikamaru ignores it, like all the times he's seen it before. It's not his business to pry and he likes those encounters too much to risk them with his curiosity.

 

"I'm glad you've decided to come by, Shikamaru. I have a favour to ask you," Majo says without looking up from the tea he's pouring.

 

The Nara swallows, looking quickly at the pair. He really likes them, but they have a reputation. They appeared one day and never left the eastern side of Konoha, never ageing, never meddling in the business of the Clans. They all go to the Witch if they want enchantments or remedies, and everyone knows the Crow King will come for the parents who mistreat their children and the spouses who abuse their loved ones. He doesn't know what to think of this.

 

"Fear not, youngling. It won't endanger anyone you know and shouldn't be too bothersome. You will be compensated handsomely too."

"What can I do for you?" he blurts out, too curious for his own good.

"I need a crate of that wonderful flower you cultivate on your grounds."

Shikamaru gasps. "You want a whole crate of rurikarakusa? The clan will never agree to this. I don't think we even have that much!"

Majo grimaces. "I know about the clan, that's why I'm asking you. Give me as much as you can."

 

Shikamaru frowns, suddenly suspicious.

 

"What do you need them for? In that quantity, they can be highly toxic."

 

Majo looks uncomfortable and settles for sipping some tea, obviously looking for an acceptable answer. The Crow King huffs and crosses his arms.

 

"It's for me."

"Ma-"

"Shut it, snowflake. The kid has proven how trustworthy he is."

"What do you mean?"

The Crow King sighs. "I'm going blind. It's been going on for years but now I can barely see over forty metres and all the colours are gone."

"And you think the rurikarakusa can-"

Majo nods. "They're not toxic for him."

 

Shikamaru frowns, pieces clicking together in his mind.

 

"Wait a minute..."

"Yes," the Crow King says.

"Shut up," the other hisses. "You've said enough already."

"Don't you see he's already figured it out?"

Shikamaru stares, baffled. "You're Uchiha Madara, aren't you?"

"Sure am, kid."

"And that makes you..."

Majo sighs. "Senju Tobirama, yes. Or, what is left of him"

 

Shikamaru whistles, looking at the two men in front of him like he's never seen them before. And he probably hasn't, really. It explains so much about the secrecy and the powers and-

 

"Let's not linger on that. How soon can you get us the flowers?"

Shikamaru quickly does the maths. "Maybe next moon? I'm not promising anything, but it won't be sooner."

"That will do," Majo, no, Tobirama nods. "As for the payment."

"You do realise those flowers are worth much more than money, right?"

"I'm not offering you money, Shikamaru."

 

The strange look passes on Madara's face again, and this time the Nara does focus on it.

 

"A year ago, you came to me for a deal. If you bring me the flowers, I will give you back all the memories I took from you and I'll answer all the questions they will bring."

 

Shikamaru can feel all the blood draining from his face. He searches long and hard for a clue, a sign on their faces that they're joking. But Majo's strange features, split in half at the centre of his face, don't waver for a second. His red eye flinches while the brown remains unmoving and Shikamaru knows he's telling the truth.

 

“You will have your flowers, Majo-sama,” Shikamaru says in a voice he manages to keep steady. The Crow King looks at him

 

He leaves without looking back.

 

 

 

The Hyūga are as annoying as ever, but he can't find it in himself to bargain the next trade. Hinata notices, her blank eyes narrowing slightly whenever he passes a chance at sweetening the deal for his clan. Even Hanabi is growing uncomfortable, her grey wings twitching now and then. It's something in the air, a heavy feeling indicating the scrutiny they're putting on him, but he doesn't do anything to stop them.

He leaves the Spirits with a contract and a summon for his cousin from the Uchiha. When Shisui gave it to him, Shikamaru had a hard time not staring at the man, searching in him every ounce of resemblance to the Crow King. He was mortified at how much he could spot now that he was truly looking.

As he crosses Konoha to go back to his clan's lands, he's stopped by a white stag appearing in his way. His size and colour are a proof of his totems' presence, so he bows respectfully and waits to hear whatever the deer has to say.

 

“May the leaves forever follow your steps, my kin,” the stag salutes. “I have news from the border.” Shikamaru rises his head, surprised.

“The foxes have settled down,” the totem continues, shaking his large neck.

“What do you mean?”

“The Hunt is here.”

 

Shikamaru freezes, wide eyes taking in the unmoving form of the white stag and the seriousness of his tone.

He wasn't even born for the last Hunt. His father was so small he hadn't grown his full antlers yet. He doesn't know how the Hunt begins, why it comes or where it happens. No one knows. It isn't here, and then it is, and Konoha has to make do.

 

“How- why did they-”

“The Blood Packs have joined the foxes, and they came with a God.”

 

Shikamaru staggers back, his hands finding the bark of a tree and brushing against the familiar roughness to anchor himself. A God. In Konoha. He knows no one who ever met one. Moon Kaguya was sealed too long ago for anyone to remember her outside of stories, and the bijū now each guard a Home of the world. He has met Kokuō, the guardian of Konoha, once in his life, and he knows Naruto has met Uzushio's guardian Kurama.

The bijū never leave the Home they guard, so it can't be one of them accompanying the Blood Packs. He's never heard of another God. He finds the idea terrifying.

 

“What should we do?” This time, his voice breaks and he doesn't try to hide it.

“You start preparing. My siblings and I will send all the deer to you before the next moon. Then we wait.” The stag falls silent, looking pensively behind Shikamaru. “The last Hunt went on for seven years. Half of the herd died.”

 

Shikamaru swallows, his hand twitching to touch his antlers.

 

“Go warn the assassin, my kin. We will find you when it's time.”

 

The assassin. His father. That, Shikamaru can do. He bows to the stag, and runs. Konoha is their Home Forest, the Nara are dryad, and when a strong wind wraps around him and hides him in leaves, he lets it. It seems the Hyūga are grateful, after all. It only takes a second before he vanishes. He swaps from tree to tree, merging with the wood and shadows until he stops in the heart of their lands, barely a minute later.

Shikamaru has never run this fast in his entire life. Despite his shortness of breath, he forces himself to sprint where his father is talking with his cousin.

 

“The Hunt,” he gasps. “The totems told me the Hunt is here.”

 

Shikaichi lets out a keening sound, their hands gripping the moss growing on their hair. Shikaku is white as a Hyūga's skin. This, more than anything, tells Shikamaru everything he needs to know. His father killed the last few Senju who hoped to reclaim their lands, he faced the Elks to prove his worth as clan head. But in this moment, he looks utterly terrified.

 

 

 

The clan is in a frenzy. They're putting traps all around their lands, building shelters high in the trees and training the youngest members harshly. His father ordered Shikaichi to take Shikamaru's place, and they are now single-handedly taking care of the three spirit clans. His only task is to convince the Crow King and the Witch to put charms around their lands to protect them.

So Shikamaru grows the rurikarakusa, harvests as many of them as he can. He wants his memory back, he craves it like the shadows of Konoha, but if he has to loose the chance to get them back in exchange of the Witch's protection, he'll do it in a heartbeat.

A few days before the new moon, he straps a basket to his back, filled to the brim with the pale blue flowers. He leaves with the heavy eyes of his father on his back and the feeling that he's playing with the future of his clan on this trip alone.

When he reaches Konoha's border and the shack, Shikamaru isn't surprised to find the Witch already waiting for him. Majo is standing, a long staff in his hand decorated with dark feathers and strips of worn leather. The Crow King is nowhere in sight.

Shikamaru is struck by the ethereal beauty of the Witch. His split face is carved in planes of shadows and lights, his red eye shining strangely against the fair skin. Where the white blends with the tanned half of his body, it looks like a tree is covering his leg, going over his hip and attacking his chest. His hair is even longer than he remembers, half-white, half-brown.

 

“Majo-sama,” Shikamaru nods, “I'm bringing you the rurikarakusa, as promised.”

“And I'm ready to give you back your memories.”

 

Shikamaru frees the straps from his shoulders and puts the basket of flowers on the ground. Then, he shakes his head.

 

“You can keep them. I need something else from you.”

Majo rises an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“The Hunt is here. I'm ready to trade the rurikarakusa for protection charms and illusions to hide our lands.”

 

Majo doesn't answer, his eyes searching Shikamaru's face with a serious look.

 

“You know the Blood Packs are bringing a God with them,” he states more than asks.

“Yes,” Shikamaru nods. “Which is why we need your help.”

“If you're sure about this, then I don't mind. The woodland lovers are mine and you have my help.”

 

Bringing the Witch to the Nara lands is a strange experience. Majo had asked for some time to prepare, and when he had come out of the shack, there were antlers in his hair. Actual antlers, that felt like the ones on Shikamaru's head and pulsed with the Nara totems' energy. The clansmen make themselves scarce as soon as Majo crosses the edge of their territory, but they're all hidden in plain sight, observing the creature.

Shikaku bows when Majo approaches and Shikamaru sees in his father's eyes that he knows perfectly who the Witch is and how it relates to their history. Shikamaru is dying to ask why Majo doesn't seem angry with them, but he keeps quiet and observes in silence.

The Witch is muttering something under his breath. In his hands, two charms made of leaves and feathers that he wraps around Shikamaru's father's neck. Then, Majo reaches for his long hair, his hands disappearing in the white and brown strands. He can hear his clansmen's gasp when the mismatched palms come back full of stones. No, those aren't stones. They're bones.

Majo slips into a cross-legged position, still muttering, and bites hard into the smallest bone. It shatters and the Witch takes one of the sharp edges that were created and stings his finger with it. A dark liquid oozes out of the small hole. Majo smears it on the few dozens of remaining bones. The needle, he uses again to carve symbols into the bones.

There is something twisted, pulsing from Majo's form, something hypnotising in the way his hands move gracefully between the bones. His head fall back, endless strands of hair pouring from his shoulders like a black and white waterfall. He's chanting, in the old tongue, his words like mud on Shikamaru's skin.

Suddenly, he stops. He sits there, heaving, for a moment before taking a strip of leather from his staff and using it to tie his hair back. Shikamaru watches, mesmerized, the two colours blending together. He's reminded of the bark of a birch, a tree he's only seen around the Witch's shack. It sorts of makes sense, when he sees this.

 

“Scatter the bone charms on your territory. The hounds will avoid the area. There is nothing I can do if the God decides to accompany the dogs. They'll see straight through my magic.”

Shikaku nods, grateful. “What about those?” he says, pointing to the necklaces on his chest.

“The foxes know who you are, and they'll want you as their first kill,” Majo says sombrely. “Take them off even for a minute and they'll find you. Mito as always been relentless,” he adds in a bitter tone.

 

Shikamaru looks away from the scene, feeling Shikaichi's presence at the edge of his perception. He turns around just in time to catch his son, the fawn almost falling in his hurry.

 

“Hello, little leaf,” he whispers, blowing softly on his son's eyelashes.

 

The child giggles happily, oblivious to the danger and the anxiety coursing through the clan. His words still belong to the deer, until he's introduced to the totems. He has seen two springs already and Shikamaru would have brought him to the Elks if the Hunt – well, it doesn't matter now, does it? He simply hopes he'll see the day Shikaoi speaks for the first time.

A sudden sound makes him jump, before a ruckus erupts behind the redwoods. Instinctively, he curls around Shikaoi while Shikaichi stands in front of them, guarding.

 

“Shikamaru!”

 

He recognizes the voice and it doesn't bring good news, no matter how much he likes the man.

 

“What do you want, Naruto? The foxes aren't welcome on Nara territory, not now.”

Naruto is panting. “I know, I know. That's why I'm here.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Hunt will be a slaughter. Mito-sama is forcing the Blood Packs to attack the Home Forest.”

“What?!”

 

Shikaku is standing near them now, Majo a couple of steps behind him, both their faces weary.

 

“The Inuzuka never wanted to Hunt again, and the Hatake are soul-bonded to two-third of their pack anyway, so they would have left everyone alone. But Mito-sama threatened them, because right now they're living near the Home Island and they're under Kurama's protection.”

“Mito is using the Kyūbi to _blackmail_ them?” Majo splutters. Naruto looks at him, frowning in confusion.

“Who are you? You seem familiar.”

“It doesn't matter. How did she manage to convince the Kyūbi to do that?”

Naruto shrugs. “I don't know. But they're going to attack the Home Forest, soon.”

“Who are they bringing? Who is the God helping them?” Majo asks.

Naruto shivers. “The God isn't helping. I've seen it. Mito bound it to Tsume with the chains used on Moon Kaguya. The God doesn't have a choice.”

 

Shikamaru is sweating, dread pooling in the pit of stomach. This is – it's disgusting. He has never felt sicker in his life. You don't – you don't _ever_ bind a God. Moon Kaguya is a legend for that reason. She was mad, she wanted to destroy the world, and even then, it still leaves an uneasy feeling to look at the moon. It's wrong. In the purest, most basic sense. Just wrong.

 

“Has anyone spoken to the Gobi? I assume he's still guarding Konoha.”

Shikaku turns to Majo. “I think the Aburame tried to get in contact. I don't know much more. The Spirits don't talk to us willingly.”

“Uzumaki,” Shikaku continues, “if we speak to the Blood Packs, do you think they'll listen? Will they attack on sight?”

“I'm not sure. They don't want to Hunt you, but they don't have a choice. Now, if you were to offer the kind of protection they had in Uzushio...”

“But we need Kokuō for that,” Shikaku whispers. “Alright, here's what we're going to do. Shikaichi, you go talk to the Spirits. We need their help. Shikamaru, find the Blood Packs and see if you can convince them.”

 

Shikamaru tightens his grip around his son, something painful tying his throat. Shikaku is right. They need to act soon. He knows how to deal with outsiders, he's been a liaison to the Spirits for a long time now.

 

“Take care of him,” he breathes, putting Shikaoi in his father's arms.

“Of course. Now go.”

Majo steps forward. “I will go with you.”

 

Shikamaru looks at him, eyes narrowed. They can't afford to refuse, but he knows there is more to this.

 

“Let's go, then.”

Majo falls into steps with him. “We need to get the Crow King first.”

 

They don't even have to walk back to the shack. The Crow King is waiting for them at the edge of the Nara territory. Shikamaru does a double take when he sees him, because he looks like an Uchiha. Not in the distant, nagging way he used to, with his dark mane and lean body. No, he looks like a Tengu, a Spirit of Protection, with feathers crawling up his neck and bleeding onto his cheeks, eyes bloody and spinning.

 

“This is it, then?” the Tengu asks, walking towards them with assured steps.

“We're taking down Mito,” Majo nods. “Once and for all.”

 

The Crow King raises a black hand to cup Majo's face. His mismatched eyes close as he leans into the gesture. Shikamaru knows he should look away, but he doesn't want to. This feels precious and he wants to witness it.

 

“Is he listening?”

Majo nods. “He knew it was coming, but it still pains him.”

“You survived, Tobirama, both of you. She didn't take that from you.”

“Only the entirety of my clan,” comes the bitter reply.

 

The Crow King tugs at the long hair until Majo bends down to kiss him. It's just a press of the lips and it doesn't even linger, but Shikamaru shudders, something hurting inside of him.

 

“I love you,” the Tengu says, fierce and unyielding. “Both of you. Never forget that.”

“How could I,” Majo whispers, “when you left your clan to be with us? How could I, when you've been here every day to remind us of why we still live, after all we've lost?”

The Crow King squeezes his hand, once, before squaring his jaw. “Let's go, then. We have a fox to kill.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on part two, so it shouldn't take too much time! There is actually [fanart of Tobirama](http://dimancheetoile.tumblr.com/post/173425887468/wind-of-change-the-leaves-are-singing-for-you) to go with this chapter, if you want to see it.


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